I was curious to find out what the former Mayor of Cleveland, Michael White, has been up to since he decided not to run for reelecton last time around. I figured he had taken a job at Jones Day, or Squires, Sanders & Dempsey or had landed at a large not for profit like the Cleveland Foundation. I googled him but couldn’t find any useful or timely information regarding his whereabouts.

I finally resorted to emailing my parents, figuring they might have read something in the local papers about his latest gig.

Momma got back to me quickly:

From: Momma
To: Michael Oliver, Pops
Date: May 4, 2005 1:14 PM
Subject: Re: Where in the world is Mike White?

An Alpaca

“I look for Cleveland to be my home away from home… You know it’s cold up here, but I’m from hot Atlanta. Hopefully, I can heat it up for you.”

Usher, referring to his recent purchase of a minority share in the Cleveland Cavaliers.

I swear to God… Internet Access has become water for me (which raises a very important question: Can Jesus walk on Internet access?)

I am holed up in my second favorite coffee shop, here in Cleveland. I’d like to give a shout out to Case Western Reserve University for providing free Wi-Fi for all Arabica customers.

I just got back from the land of my forefathers. It was shockingly cold for the south. But nothing like the 14 inches of snow my brother and I faced when we returned home. There was so much snow that we couldn’t get into our house without a little digging.

Last semester left me so brain dead, that I haven’t caught up on the movies I wanted to see or the books I wanted to read. I have, thanks to Qusiesoo (I’d give you a link, but this talented writer has thus far resisted my entreaties that she begin a blog), caught up on nearly the entire second season of the West Wing.

I survived 30 (now on the other side, I can face the famished 8 with impunity). I want to thank all the folks that came out. Friends from every city I have ever lived in came into DC to celebrate. It was fabulous.

(I have always appreciated the shuffle feature on music devices, but combining that feature with the mobility of the iPod is just awesome. Who knew Ani Difranco could seamlessly flow into Jay Lib?)

From The Birds comes this belly-achingly funny video of a Honda robot prototype that can “run” at 3Km an hour.

(I haven’t been right since…)

Ok… I gotta lot of catching up to do.

Over and out.

According to the Washington Post, The new head of the Cleveland Clinic wants the McDonald’s in the lobby of the hospital, known the world over for its heart care, to shut its doors. I gotta say - I was thrilled to find that Mickey D’s when my dad was in the hospital and I was so hungry his hospital food started looking apetizing.

Last night, as the Browns were driving to within 5 yards of the endzone, setting up a touchdown that would tie the game and take the teams into overtime, I had the familiar feeling. The feeling only a Clevelander can have. I expected them to lose, but that’s not the feeling I am talking about. I expected them to lose fantastically. And they did not disappoint. With seconds left, not only did Garcia get intercepted, but Ed Reed of the Ravens wasn’t content with intercepting the ball and sealing a 7 point victory. He had to run… it… all… the…way. In this case “all the way” was 106 yards, the longest run with an interception in league history. Yes, to those of you asking, there are only 100 yards between endzones.

The feeling I had as I watched the final drive was a comfortable feeling, like an old winter coat, warn just before true winter hits. As a North Coaster, I am quite familiar with the heartbreak of loss. As expected, attention has shifted from Boston, fresh of their breaking of the Bambinian curse, to the heir apparent in the contest of the damned. Much attention has been lavished on Chicago and it’s baseball title drought which, at just under a century, is the longest in history.

But it is Cleveland that wears the crown of thorns - not Chicago. Clevelanders laugh at a mere single sport “drought”. Loss is our birthright and our legacy. We know no other way than this. Cleveland has gone 40 years (a staggering 115 seasons) without a championship in any major sport. While Chicago was buoyed by the 6 Bulls titles and the Bears Superbowl, Cleveland endured “Red Right 88″, “The Drive”, “The Fumble”, “The Shot”, “The Shot II”, and “The Error” just to name a few. We name our failures like other folks name their pets or their cars.

The striking thing about our losses is that they are incredible. The Browns were called the “Cardiac Kids” in the 80s for their penchant of keeping it close only to snatch defeat out of the jaws of victory in the most awe inspiring ways. See Red Right 88, The Fumble, The Drive.

But something we don’t tell you is this. We like it this way. Everyone from Cleveland believes that on any given day we might, just might, surprise you, not just in sports, but in our personal lives, our jobs and our dreams. It has become our identity. We like the lack of expectation and lay in waiting for small victories.

I worry for Cleveland though, because if we ever do win a championship, especially a football championship, I truly believe the city will unravel in a way heretofore unseen in human history.

I received an email from home yesterday saying that the Cleveland Plain Dealer was set to endorse Bush, a shock, given that Cleveland is a liberal bastion in this swing state. Both the Columbus Dispatch and the Cinncinnati Enquirer endorsed Bush. The skinny was that the editorial board voted 5-2 to endorse Kerry and then the Publisher put his foot down and overruled the board, forcing them to endorse Bush.

In fact, the Plain Dealer endorsed no one.

As the anonymous editorial states:

The voters know the issues and understand the stakes; we cannot imagine they need further advice about the men

In a year of deep political divisions, this newspaper’s opinion section is experienc ing deep divisions of its own.

After nearly four years spent watching George W. Bush as president, and after a year of watching Sen. John Kerry campaign to oust him, we have decided not to add one more potentially polarizing voice to a poisoned debate. We make no endorsement for president this year.

This was going to be a post about how excited I was to learn that the local coffee shop has high speed free wireless access and how I was disappointed that I just found this out since I had been refraining from blogging so I didn’t blow up my mom’s 4 hours a month of internet access.

But…

You see this guy at the table next to me is balling… I don’t exactly know what to do. I want to ask if he is ok, but I am afraid that will draw me into a sob story. He just received a phone call from his wife and was able to turn the water works off on cue.

Hi sweetie… Yeah, I am at the coffee shop… uh huh…. yep… everything’s fine… ok… love you too sweetie…

Then, just like that, tears again after he hangs up the phone. I suppose he has a loving family so I guess I’ll leave him alone. I wonder what possesses a 45 year old man to weep openly by himself in a coffee shop?

Now he is wiping his nose on his sleeve and sniffling… and there he goes, his head is now on the table…

Poor guy. I’m gonna ask him if he is ok.

Update: You’re not going to believe this… he fell asleep and is now snoring.

Prom·ised Land
n.

• The land of Canaan, promised by the Lord to Abraham’s descendants in the Bible.
• A longed-for place where complete satisfaction and happiness will be achieved

The promised land is more like the second definition. It’s where I was born. It’s where I go to rest and hide from the world.

I survived the Civ Pro Cage match with my confidence still intact. I ate well and managed to catch up with a few friends over the weekend at my high school reunion. Back at school, people seem even more stressed than they did when I left. Even those students who pride themselves in their “too cool for school” attitude can be caught outside the library whispering in hushed tones about the differences between primary and secondary assumption of risk…

It is going to be a long few weeks. Exams on the 11th, 15th and 19th.

This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow–
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go.

I hope Emily got it right.